


anything, everything else

by sloppily



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25488010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sloppily/pseuds/sloppily
Summary: In some universes, Dominic Cobb's flight from the police brings an entire team together. In others, it tears relationships - and people - apart.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Kudos: 13





	anything, everything else

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first shot at writing fan fiction, and only the dozenth attempt at coming back to writing after a semi-hiatus of 6+ years. Glad to share this milestone with anonymous strangers on the internet :-)
> 
> Warning: a brief and shallow discussion of the disregard that the police system has towards victims of domestic abuse.

It is July, August, and then before he knows it it’s February.

\-- 

Eames hadn’t seen it coming. It was another bullet point on his list of personal shortcomings; he, an outsider and suspicious of the Cobbs on a good day, should have detected the signs. But Arthur was always a professional first, a friend second (a lover third), and even his immeasurable alertness hadn’t been enough. Dominic had kept the secret close to his chest. But only for as long as it suited him.

\-- 

Here is a truth: the Cobbs had never trusted Eames, not really. The world of dreamsharing was built on connections, not friendships: there were people you trusted to have your back during a gig, and then there were people you trusted with your location and the number of your burner phone. Those you allowed to toe the line between team and something more, between dreamsharing and reality. Mal and Dom, and then only Dom, had always firmly placed Eames in the first category.

Eames had wanted to try, at first. Back in the honeymoon stage, when he still saw the thing between Dom and Arthur as devoted friendship instead of fucked-up loyalty from Arthur and even more fucked-up codependence from Cobb’s side. His job was to slot himself seamlessly into the lives and thoughts of others; but perhaps that, Eames thought, was what made Malory and Dominic wary of him in the first place. He had never quite been able to conquer that initial impression, that distrust. It had tainted his relations with the Cobbs as well as with Arthur.

Maybe Dom had already sensed what the future would hold in store, that the fates one day would force Arthur to choose between them – and that Eames would never really be able to forgive all that followed. They wanted Arthur in different ways, but they had wanted him – his presence, his sensibility, his power to make everything seem a little more doable – all the same.

It had not been fair to Arthur, to make him choose. But it also hadn’t been fair to Eames to be left behind.

\-- 

Eames was intimately aware of the loyalty that being in Arthur’s circle brought, and so he couldn’t be mad that Dominic was on the receiving end this time around.

No, he was mad that Dominic – of whom he had, admittedly, expected a certain sense of impulsivity – thought it necessary to leave the country, and that Arthur – no-nonsense, sensible Arthur – deemed it necessary to follow. 

Even though Malory had done her best to snare Dominic in her dreamshare-spurred net, there was no way it would become the nationwide scandal Dominic seemed to fear. Not for long, at least.

The police would try to find her presumed murderer, yes, and there would be public outcry. But it would quieten until the outrage lasted only among those who Mal’s life had touched, and even then it would eventually water down.

Dominic had assumed a perfect world, in which the cops would set out a permanent witch hunt until Dominic would be caught – whether that was two weeks or twenty years from now. But in this reality, the police system was underfunded, understaffed, and suffering from a systematic disregard for the daily tragedy women faced – and that Malory Cobb had pretended to face.

Her husband could have settled down in any Texan town with a new identity, without anyone looking too carefully at him. Given enough time, he could have even had his kids brought to him. At the end of the day, most would have perceived the results of Malory’s masterplan as simply another sad statistic. 

Eames knew this, Arthur knew this for sure, and Dominic refused to acknowledge any of it with a stubbornness that made Eames almost impossible murderous. Arthur argued it was due to PTSD-induced paranoia; Eames saw it as simply the latest instance of misplaced self-aggrandizement. 

Of course, it didn’t really matter what it was in the end. Either way, Dominic Cobb fled the country and Arthur left with him.

\-- 

Eames had met Raymond in New Delhi when doing intel, while Raymond was doing – Eames still wasn’t sure exactly. But they met, and Raymond had a fashion sense that laid in the grey zone between Arthur and Eames’ two extremes, and his left thumb didn’t carry the semi-permanent bruise that Arthur’s did after the job in Milan, and he snored lightly but only ever after sex, which meant that Eames no longer had to turn on his side to know whether the man lying next to him was asleep, and - 

Yeah. They hadn’t lasted for long. 

\-- 

But God, the golden years. He appreciated all of the years he got with Arthur: back when they barely knew each other and circled the other carefully; when they orbited around each other while being in different countries, angry and frustrated and hopeful; and the years that followed, when they withdrew from the community but drew closer to each other. Eames loved all of those moments, but he couldn’t help but love the years that he and Arthur dominated dreamsharing best.

Both of them had been hungry enough to gain the skills they had, and free – cocky? – enough that it led all over the world, to everyone’s dreams. Eames knew of his own inclination to feel invincible, and he guessed Arthur to be the same – but together, they basically were. 

It was exhilarating, to have the other catch the gaps in your plan that no one else had caught, to know you’re the best and that together you might be strong enough of a force to change the world forever. It’s addictive: once you get a taste of that feeling, the thirst for it never really disappears. 

\-- 

Eames had always known he was a difficult man. His mother had said so with fond exasperation; some team members with irritation; and Arthur with something close to love. He had taken it at face value: it couldn’t have been too much of a problem, if it had still led to a life like this. 

Maybe that was the hardest about this: forgiving Arthur felt like an abandonment of his former self, who was as proud as the American despite not having the appearances to match. Yet not forgiving him felt like betraying his future self, who would have to sustain himself with only four years of memories for the rest of his life. 

Because Eames might harbor grudges, but there was one thing he could depend on when it came to the man he loved: Arthur could, and would, match him every step of the way.

Eames used to take comfort in that.

\-- 

“Come on, darling”, Eames stretched his legs on Arthur’s lap, shifting until his head laid carefully on the armrest of the couch. “No one in this industry will ever make it past forty. We got to make the little time that we have count, and you have to dream a little bigger.”

\-- 

It had been good. Life, he meant. He had taken up more successful gigs, carving out a name for himself as an individual that replaced, and eventually surpassed, the reputation he had created with any of his teams. He had met another man, Jonathan, who knew of dreamsharing but had as much interest in its details as he had in the weather forecast. Arthur’s last name was still the answer to the recovery question for most of Eames’ bank accounts, but it had been years since he thought about the man on his birthday.

Eames had become somewhat of a lone wolf, but he nevertheless kept in touch with the community. It was still small enough that it couldn’t help but keep track of its own – and having one of its leaders be some sick bastard that had killed his wife turned out to be one of its favorite stories.

And so every retelling had kept the memory of the Cobbs alive, and even a decade after everything, Arthur’s name still closely followed theirs. Most were simply interested in his sudden disappearance; very few believed that the disappearance of the brightest point man at the time was linked to that of his colleague. Even now, real relationships – whether romantically or platonically – was something foreign to the community.

So no one came even close to what Arthur and Eames had had, and then lost, and so they did not wait for a knock on the door when the news broke that Dominic Cobb was still alive and had returned to his country at last. The rumor spread like wildfire, but Eames sat frozen on his sofa in New York for weeks on end. It wasn’t his usual stake-out, not even a frequent one, but it was one that meant something. 

He sat there, not expectant but still waiting, for weeks. Even after all of this he felt hope so intense it pierced his heart with every breath he took.

One afternoon, he was thumbing through one of the books that Raymond had meant to bring with him on his trip and had forgotten, the remnants of Chinese take-out still on the coffee table. The bell rang, and his hope rose like a flood. 

He stood up slowly, moved carefully towards the door. He didn’t dare to look through the peephole, not quite sure if he could still bring himself to open the door if it was not the person he had been waiting for. (Or if it was. Waiting here, in New York, had been the first step Eames had taken towards… something. He wasn’t sure if he could take another.)

So, instead, he took a deep breath. Braced himself. Opened the door.

On the other side - 

_Dream bigger_ was supposed to look like this: Arthur and Eamed taking dream sharing to new heights, Arthur and Eames buying a ridiculous house somewhere warm and spending entire summers there with only the local neighbors knowing, Arthur and Eames conquering the odds of their work and growing old together. Dying together, which Arthur would undoubtedly do in the newest Dolce and Gabbana because he was a predictably vain bastard when he wanted to be.

Eames thought that, whatever Arthur would dare to dream up, it would essentially all be the same: him and Eames together.

Eames wouldn't have encouraged him, if he had known it would have led to anything, everything else.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos, comments, and good vibes that i manage to land a job in the current economy are all appreciated!


End file.
